DISCLAIMER: The title is courtesy of the Police; the rest is all me. This story also contains lesbianism, voyeurism, and several other isms I've probably forgotten, so take that into consideration when deciding whether or not to re-purpose it as a children's bedtime story.
AUTHOR'S NOTE: As stated in the summary, this is a POVquel (that is, the same story told from a different perspective, and yes, you can feel free to use that) to 'Take a Letter, Maria.' You don't necessarily have to read that one first to understand this one, but it probably won't hurt.
ARCHIVING: Only with the permission of the author.

That made Carly even more sick. "He's what, forty-five? He's married!"

"Keep your voice down!" Sandra hissed. The park was very nearly abandoned, or Sandra wouldn't have chosen it as the place to make her confession, but she still didn't want to risk anything.

Carly swallowed hard. "How long..."

Sandra wrapped her arms around her narrow waist protectively, tilting her head to hide her face behind the dull brown curtain of her hair. "A couple months. He was helping me with my paper...his wife doesn't even care about him, you know. She's always working, she doesn't even care about him."

Carly just shook her head. "How could you not tell me about this?" Sandra's flat stare made the blonde wince. Okay, she might have had a point. "So how come you're telling me now?"

Sandra swallowed. "Mike said he wanted to try..."

Carly snorted. "Mike? Jesus Christ..." Her eyes narrowed. "Try what?"

"He wanted to know if you wanted to..."

Carly's eyes went wide. "No! No fucking way!" Sandra moved toward her across the grass, but Carly shook her head. "It's not bad enough you let him touch you, you want me to..."

The blonde's eyes narrowed. "That's why he's failing me. I've been working my ass off in that class, and he gives me an F with no fucking explanation, and it's because, what? He wants to fuck me?"

"No! God, do you think I'd..." Now it was Sandra who looked like she was going to throw up. The brunette took a deep breath. When she opened her eyes, she was amazed her best friend was still there at all. "He wants...you know that time we talked about, like...practicing? With each other? He wants to watch us...that."

Carly froze, the horrified expression dropping away to leave her face completely dead. Sandra desperately wanted to reach out and take her friend's hand, but she was afraid that Carly would bolt at the slightest provocation. "It wouldn't be gay! I mean, that's what we said, right? And if we're doing it for a guy...that doesn't mean we're like, dykes or..."

"Okay."

Sandra blinked, certain she'd heard wrong. When she looked up, her blonde classmate had her arms wrapped around herself, but her face was still blank.

"What?"

"I don't want him touching me. I mean just because you're all hot for teacher..."

Sandra trailed off, and Carly took a deep breath. She had to close her eyes as she exhaled, desperate not to let the tears fall. "Yeah."

Carly hated herself for not hating it more.

Even if they were legally old enough, it was still sick, and no matter what Sandra said Michael Prince was still a monster. Whenever her gaze strayed across the bed to find him leering, gently rubbing Sandra's leg, she felt like throwing up as a prelude to running out of the house as fast as she possibly could. But she didn't dare.

Because as long as she could keep her gaze off Mr. Prince, she could pretend it was just the two of them.

And that made her heart stop.

They'd stripped each other slowly, gracelessly, and Carly's attempts to avoid looking at Mr. Prince had suddenly gotten easier. She traced the slight, perfect curves of Sandra's breasts, the gentle hollow of her stomach, the soft skin under her arms, and practically came with a moan when the brunette returned the favor. When she finally leaned down to suckle at one of Sandra's tiny pink nipples, she was barely holding back tears.

"Yeah, that's right. Does she taste good?" Carly had to fight to ignore their history teacher's rumbling voice from the head of the bed. Then, Sandra moaned, and suddenly Carly didn't have to try as hard.

As Carly explored her best friend's breasts with her lips and tongue, Sandra slowly began to lean back, forcing the blonde's mouth lower. As she began to kiss a line down Sandra's stomach, the brunette's breathing hitched, and delicate fingers rose up to comb lovingly through her hair.

When she reached the puff of curly brown hair between Sandra's legs, Carly stopped. She pressed down her nose with a tentative sniff, and felt a splash of wetness between her own thighs as the brunette's scent filled her. "Oh, god, Sandra..."

When Carly stuck out her tongue, Sandra began to scream.

The blonde lost herself in her friend's lips, the delicate pink folds of Sandra's pussy starting to drip with moisture. Carly licked and sucked, fingers spreading open the glistening flesh as Sandra's breathing grew heavier and more erratic, until the mere sound was sending a spike of pleasure down Carly's back. Carly's nose pressed against Sandra's clit, and she could feel the brunette's grip on her hair tighten as breathless, half-voiced oaths began to tumble from her lips. The brunette's legs crossed behind Carly's back, pulling the blonde closer even as Sandra pushed her hips up against Carly's mouth. The blonde moaned as she licked at the moisture streaming from Sandra's pussy; Sandra hadn't even touched her, and her center already felt like it was on fire.

When Sandra came, legs clenching to hold Carly's face against her, the rush of musky moisture into Carly's mouth made the blonde join her with a moan.

When the two girls pulled apart, Carly looked up to find Sandra staring back at her in wonder. The brunette's lips parted, and a delicate hand reached out toward Carly's face, when the sheets began to rustle.

"That was good." Mr. Prince chuckled throatily. "That was really good." When he pulled aside the sheet covering him below the waist, Carly flinched involuntarily. Mr. Prince just smiled. "Carly, I bet you'd like to watch while Sandra and I..."

"Michael."

As raw as her nerves were, Carly was amazed she didn't have a heart attack. As it was, she nearly fell off the bed as she swung around to find a beautiful middle-aged redhead staring at them.

Sandra began to shake. "Oh god..."

"What the fuck is this?"

Sandra's breathing was growing shallow again, but for a very different reason. "Mrs. Prince! Oh, god, please I..."

The redhead's gaze snapped from her husband to the naked brunette curled up at the foot of the bed. "Did it look like I was talking to you, you little slut?"

Carly, still frozen until that moment, only snapped out of it when she heard Sandra begin to sob.

"Don't you fucking talk to her like that!" Carly snarled, barely even aware she'd climbed out of the bed and thrown herself in the redhead's face. "This is your fault! If you weren't some dried up old cunt who can't keep him in line, if you paid the slightest fucking bit of attention..."

The redhead laughed manically. "Is that what you tell yourself? Does that make you feel better about fucking someone who's older than both of you put together? Whose wife is standing in front of you calling you out for being the whores you..."

Until Mrs. Prince gasped, Carly didn't even realize she'd slapped her. As the redhead's hand slowly rose up to rub her cheek, disbelieving, her eyes turned back to her husband. "Goodbye, Michael. I hope the three of you are very happy together."

Carly winced at the sound of the front door slamming, then turned back, her gaze going to Sandra curled up at the foot of the bed, tears streaming down her face. Tentatively, Carly reached out a hand, almost bursting into tears herself when Sandra flinched back from the touch. Finally, the brunette looked up, cheeks burning and green eyes brimming with tears. Carly's grip on Sandra's shoulder softened. "We should go."

Before they left the bedroom, clothes in disarray, Sandra's shoulders still shaking, Carly spared one last glance for Mr. Prince, still sitting on the bed, exposed.

And he still hadn't said a word.

As bad an idea as two half-dressed teenage girls wandering the streets at night was, there was no way in hell Carly would have accepted a ride even if Mr. Prince had offered. They hadn't gone more than half a block before Sandra spun around to face her. "What the fuck is wrong with you?" Carly reached out for her hand, but the brunette pulled back. "Why would you say all that stuff?"

"You didn't say anything! What, I was just supposed to lie there and listen to her talk about you like that?" The blonde sneered. "Whatever happened to the love of your life?"

"Oh, so you care now? I thought you hated him!"

Carly's fist clenched. "I don't give a shit about him! The thought of him touching you makes me sick."

The frustrated scream from Sandra's throat almost sounded like laughter. "Then why the fuck are you here? Did you say yes just so you could give me shit about it later? Why didn't you just tell me to fuck off if you hate him so much?"

Carly had to suck in a breath to keep from screaming. When she saw the rage in Sandra's eyes, she scoffed. Fuck it. She was too angry and horny to care anymore, and they were obviously through anyway. "Because if this was the only chance I'd ever have to touch you, I had to take it."

The look of anger on Sandra's face disappeared. The brunette blinked. "What?" She shook her head, tears still rolling down her cheeks. "What are you talking about?"

Carly choked on a laugh. "God, how stupid are you? Why do you think I wanted to know whether you'd ever thought about...'practicing' with a girl? Why do you think I never even buy a pair of socks without asking your opinion? Why do you think I haven't had a boyfriend since we met?"

Sandra's lips parted and her eyebrows lowered, but Carly just shook her head. "You know, I could deal with your flings and your crushes, because I knew you were just too...normal to ever look at me that way. But him? You're willing to cross the line for him?" Carly raked a hand over her face, blinking back tears. "If this is my consolation prize, then I'll take it. I hope you two are real happy together."

Carly turned on autopilot, sandals slapping on the pavement as she pressed her jacket tighter around her chest. She heard the sound of Sandra's heels clicking behind her, and sped up. She was done making a fool of herself.

Just as the clicking behind her increased and she was about to break into a genuine run, Sandra's hand latched onto her arm. In the act of trying to shrug her off, Carly ended up spinning halfway around to face her.

And then she died.

Her first instinct was to squeeze her eyes shut. She knew that was the only way to maintain the illusion, and she had to maintain it as long as she possibly could. When Sandra's bottom lip moved down, pushing against hers, Carly moaned, eyelids cinching even tighter.

It wasn't until Sandra pulled back and Carly opened her eyes that the blonde realized the kiss was real.

As soon as she was able to move again, she began to shake her head. "Don't..."

"Carly..."

"It's not fair..."

"Carly..."

The blonde's breathing hitched as Sandra pressed against her again, a soft hand on the back of her neck grinding their lips together. Carly moaned, and an answering sigh rose in Sandra's throat. Carly's arms threaded behind the brunette's back, her skin tingling as she felt Sandra's curves press against hers. Sandra's free arm encircled Carly's waist, the brunette's mouth pressing softly against her chin before Sandra pulled back to look into her eyes.